


Rodney McKay Meets the Gandorans Again. A Fuzzy Tale.

by denynothing1



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-11
Updated: 2007-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denynothing1/pseuds/denynothing1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now with 20% less squash and 90% more fur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rodney McKay Meets the Gandorans Again. A Fuzzy Tale.

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel of sorts to "Rodney McKay Meets the Gandorans. A Squashbuckler," though it's not necessary to read that first.
> 
> For haphazardmethod and vivwiley. Just a little fluff to cheer you.

***

"Are we not there, yet?"

John glanced over his shoulder at Teyla, slumped on one of the back benches with her eyes closed. Usually it was McKay who asked that question.

"Three more hours," John said. He slouched in his seat. Three more interminable hours. Not for the first time, he wished the Jumper came equipped with a radio.

 _Music_ , he thought at the control panels in front of him. _Music? Singing? Maybe a little slide guitar?_

"Do you have gas?" Rodney asked from the seat beside him. "Why are you scrunching up your face like that?"

"No, Rodney, despite the fact that I've just eaten my weight in roasted balastorkle squash, stewed balastorkle squash and balastorkle flat-bread with a side of balastorkle preserves, I do not have gas." 

"Okay, okay. Not that it matters to me, since I lived in Siberia for two years in close quarters with people whose diet varied only by the color of the cabbage being served, but some-- uh, some of us might--"

"Achooo!"

John and Rodney jumped. 

"You okay, buddy?" John twisted around again to peer at Ronon, stretched out on the back bench across from Teyla.

"Something is in here," Ronon rasped back. He snorted and sniffled, then sneezed again, a sound that would rattle the rafters, if Jumpers had rafters.

John surreptitiously increased the inertial dampers.

"Why would you say that?" Rodney sounded slightly panicked. "Why would you say something is in here?"

"Because I'm not allergic to any of you."

"You never know. There's such a thing as adult-onset allergies, you know. It could be anything. It could be... the new uniforms! Maybe you're allergic to, um... black."

Three sets of eyebrows were raised in Rodney's direction.

"Rodney, did the Gandorans caution you to perform a thorough cleansing after you participated in the Winter Ritual of the Small Furry Animals?" Teyla asked. "The fur of the Broop can often cause such reactions. I myself have had a headache since we left Gandoria."

"Yes of course they did!" Rodney blustered. "Would you like to hear the gory details? The number of different brushes required, each especially designed for a different orifice?" 

John made a pained noise. "Save it McKay. We get the picture."

"I'm not sure why it matters anyway," Rodney continued. "I was the one left behind in my underwear, locked up in a small, dark hut with those creatures for hours on end while you three gorged yourselves on squash."

"You were in there for twenty minutes, Rodney," John retorted. "And judging by the way that shirt's bunched up, you probably put away more squash than the rest of us."

"I did not--" Rodney stopped, eyes wide. His shirt had begun to… trill.

"What the hell is that?"

"Nothing! What? What the hell is what?"

The trill turned to a soft, fluting, sing-song.

"Achooo!"

"Dr. McKay," Teyla leaned forward and enunciated slowly. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do it on purpose! There were at least thirty of them! You saw it! And they gave them away afterwards anyway, as part of the ritual! So what if one of them, happened to-- uh--"

John started to lift himself out of his chair. "Rodney--" 

"Fine!" Rodney reached under his shirt and pulled out a small, yellow ball of fluff. It stretched, revealing six limbs, a very long tail and a furless, shell-like coil at the top of its head. Sleepy aqua eyes blinked up at John. 

"Brooooop," the Broop cooed affectionately.

***

John had never wanted to shoot something -- _anything_ \-- so badly in his life. He gazed out at the peaceful starfield. Where the hell were the Wraith when you needed them?

A display popped up, helpfully emphasizing the complete lack of targets in the immediate vicinity. Great. Stuck in a passive aggressive jumper with a grouchy Athosian, a sniffly Satedan and an intergalactic furry animal smuggler.

Teyla, after getting past her initial reaction (which had included obvious approval of John's smack to the back of Rodney's head), had counseled that they not turn around and bring the creature back to Gandoria. Rodney was correct that the whole point of the Winter Ritual of the Small Furry Animals was to spread warmth and cheer, in the person of Broops blessed by this year's Honored Guest. To learn that the Honored Guest was also a Broop-napper would not bode well for the future of Atlantean-Gandoran relations. 

"I didn't kidnap anything!" Rodney had protested. "It hitched a ride and I never noticed till we were out of orbit! You try getting all thirty of those things unstuck and accounted for! It isn't easy being an Honored Guest, you know."

"Guess the brushing wasn't as thorough as you said," John had muttered, sourly.

"Oh, mea culpa, Colonel Hygiene. I guess I missed a spot."

"If we aren't going to give it back, how 'bout the airlock?" Ronon's more gravelly than usual voice had come from far, far back in the jumper. 

The rest of them had turned horrified eyes on him. Except for the Broop, who was busy kneading Rodney's thigh and happily trilling, "Brooooop," over and over.

Ronon had sniffed a defiant sniff. He wasn't capable of looking pathetic, of course, but he had looked damned miserable. 

"We'll be back on Atlantis in a couple hours," John had reassured him.

"Fine." Ronon had growled. "Then quarantine for that thing _forever_."

"Oh please," Rodney had said. "It's harmless! Plus," he'd added graciously, "Keller has some excellent allergy drugs. Trust me. You'll be breathing well enough to kick the ass of every Marine on base in no time."

"Not to mention yours, McKay."

"What?" Rodney had clutched the Broop and started to look panicked.

"I told you I was going to get you in the gym at some point. Now you owe me." Ronon had smiled evilly at Rodney. The "Aaaaachoooooo!" that had punctuated his sentence only served to emphasize how much trouble Rodney was in.

John had snickered. He'd been pretty sure the soft sound behind him was Teyla joining in.

***

Silence -- well, except for variations on a theme by the Broop, who came by its name honestly -- and relative peace reigned after that. Teyla had found an antihistamine for Ronon and some aspirin for herself. Ronon was curled up in a sleepy ball at the back of the jumper, resembling nothing more than an enormous... Broop. John shook himself. He'd have to remember not to make that comparison while in Ronon's hearing.

Teyla was bent over a data pad, writing up an accounting of the number of squash they'd scored this trip and calculating how long the haul would last them. Rodney was busy on his laptop, tapping away with one hand while absently scratching the Broop with the other. The Broop's expression almost embarrassed John in its utter, abandoned ecstasy.

"I suppose we should give it a name," John said.

Rodney's reply was a distracted, "Hmm." Then he looked up. "Oh no. You are not going to pick a name. I do not need to be following this thing through the halls of Atlantis, calling, 'Here, Tiger,' or, 'Here, Fluffy,' or whatever other juvenile name you might come up with."

John cocked an eyebrow at him. "I was thinking of Buttercup."

"You are a truly horrible human being."

***

A half hour later, John was -- now here was a shock -- still bored.

"What do you think those things are good for, anyway?" he asked Rodney.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What do they _do_? Do they hunt things? Can they herd things? If I throw a ball, will it fetch?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, because everything in your world is cut and dried and purposeful. What's wrong with enjoying something for its beauty, Colonel? Or its... snuggability?"

"Snuggability, McKay?"

"You know what I mean!"

John reached into his pack for the woven container of fried squash balls the Gandorans had given them for the trip back. He waved one in front of the Broop's... well, he assumed there was a nose in there somewhere. Lying on its back with Rodney's fingers buried in its fur, the Broop looked decidedly uninterested.

"Here you go," John said brightly. "Go get it!" He tossed the purple ball of squash over his shoulder.

"Colonel, I wish that you would not throw food in the jumper," came Teyla's aggrieved voice.

The Broop's eyes shifted to follow the squash, then returned to John. With an exaggerated, head to toe stretch, it curled its tail around Rodney's wrist, shut it's eyes and gave a short, demanding, "Brup."

"Maybe they taste good with ketchup," John mused.

"Were you raised by wolves? You were, weren't you?"

"On Sateda, we used to serve sand hoppers with murchle greens in a light cream reduction," Ronon's muzzy voice chimed in.

John made a mental note to check with Keller on whether antihistamines were a good idea for Satedans.

Suddenly, the Broop flopped over on Rodney's lap and let out a loud, "Broooooooooop!"

"Ow, ow, ow!" Rodney scrambled to get a grip on the dense, yellow fur. "Let go!"

"What the hell?" John leaped up and made a grab for the Broop.

It ducked under his hand and scrambled up Rodney's chest, then launched itself from the top of Rodney's head up to the ceiling. It hung there by numerous, apparently quite strong toes, wailing, "Brooooooooop!" all the while.

"Are you okay, McKay?" John eyed the tiny, yellow creature, who was facing the front of the Jumper and _quivering_.

"Oh my God, what is going on?" Rodney cried. "I may never walk again! Never mind passing on my genius to future generations. Ow!" He was rubbing his leg, but apart from being covered in yellow fur, he looked fine. Contrary to his first claim, he was already up out of his chair and backing away.

Reassured, John looked over at Teyla, who had stood at the first sound of pain from Rodney. 

She shook her head, obviously puzzled, and peered intently at the Broop, who was still caterwauling. 

"Airlock now?" croaked Ronon, hopefully.

They all stood puzzled for a moment, then the Broop ducked its head between its legs and gave John a particularly emphatic, "BROOOOP!" It sounded like a drunk at a Springsteen concert.

"It looks like it's... seen something," John said warily. He really didn't think the little ball of fluff was dangerous, just agitated. And loud. 

Teyla said urgently, "Colonel, I believe we should cloak the Jumper."

"What? Why?" John asked, even as he cautiously ducked under the Broop and hit the control the panel, while thinking, "Cloak. Now!" It was a foolish man who ignored Teyla.

As abruptly as it had begun, the Broop's wailing ceased. All was silent for a moment, and then the Broop's tail dropped down to caress John's hair. "Brooooop," the Broop cooed approvingly.

"Oh, of _course_ ," Rodney muttered.

John held up his hand. He and Teyla exchanged looks, then he thought at the Jumper, _Wraith?_

Sure enough, a heads up display popped up to show a lone spot, approaching fast. Everyone in the Jumper held their breath as a Wraith dart loomed out of the distance. Gently, John maneuvered the cloaked Jumper down and to the left, and the Dart shot by overhead, oblivious to the prey beneath.

 _Increase scan distance_ , John thought at the heads up, and it obligingly pulled back to reveal a Wraith cruiser, many light years away. "Long distance scout," John muttered. "I wonder if there are any more out here?"

"Colonel, I believe that one of the Gandoran legends I heard as a child may have some truth to it," Teyla said. "I became even more interested in it lately, after... after what I discovered about myself." She gave a small frown, then continued, "It is said that the Gandorans possess a special sense where the Wraith were concerned, but we were always given to believe that this was a story, the root of the many rituals modern Gandorans practice to foster community spirit in order to fight the Wraith. It appears that this sensory ability may actually exist and that it is the Broop who possess it."

"You mean it's an early warning system?"

"I believe so, Colonel."

"Cool."

"No airlock," Ronon muttered sadly.

"Oh please. A living creature that can sense through the vacuum of space? That is absurd. This had to be a coincidence." Rodney jumped a little as the Broop dropped down from the ceiling and padded over to him. He looked askance at it, then sighed and picked it up. "Oh fine. I suppose if some of you wish to believe an old wives' tale, go ahead." 

The Broop curled up in Rodney's arms and trilled, a much more pleasing sound than the fire alarm level hooting of only moments before. Rodney absently petted the creature, both of them visibly becoming more relaxed.

"Rodney, I would not grow too attached to the creature," Teyla cautioned, as they all settled back in their seats. Or the floor, in Ronon's case.

"Why? Is it going to go all Bonecrusher McGraw again?" Rodney anxiously held up the Broop in front of him. It hung from his hands and innocently blinked back at him. 

"I do not believe so, Rodney, but we have a larger problem."

Rodney gingerly placed the Broop back on his lap, where it flopped down and closed its eyes. As far as Broops went, it looked perfectly content.

"These animals are obviously a critical resource for the Gandorans," Teyla continued. "I do not believe that they will take kindly to us absconding with one of them. It is one thing to... accidentally transport a useless, fuzzy creature off world, but quite another to take away an essential tool for fighting the Wraith."

"She's right, Rodney." John gave Rodney a sympathetic look. His hands flew over the controls as he maneuvered the Jumper in a graceful loop. "We're heading back. And you're going to have some 'splaining to do."

Ronon gave a throaty, muffled cheer.

"But, but-- it's a myth! It has to be! And it... it likes me!"

"The Gandorans are very fond of you, too, Rodney," Teyla said. "You are their Honored Guest for this year. We may be able to negotiate a... visit for the Broop to Atlantis. And considering the role the Honored Guest plays during the upcoming Spring Sap Festival, they may feel sorry enough for you that they will be inclined to make an outright gift of this particular Broop."

"The-- what?" Rodney's eyes widened. "Sap? What?"

"I will explain," Teyla said kindly. "After all, we have a long journey back to Gandoria, and that should give me enough time to... prepare you for what is in store a few months from now."

"Oh, God," Rodney said.

"Brooooop," the Broop cooed, and reached up with its tail to give Rodney's cheek a consoling pat.


End file.
